Every Year
by farfetched4
Summary: Every year, they meet in the same place, at the same time, yet nothing ever moves between them. Slight Aus/Swiss.


Roderich was breathing slightly heavier than usual, as there were no roads and the path he currently walked was unfavourable, to say the least. Having walked this path hundreds of times before, he knew each step, each rock, every pace of this route like the back of his hand, such was it a familiar sight to him.

A gentle scent hung in the cool alpine air, and he paused, gathering his thoughts and breath, taking in the surroundings: a large cloud-flecked sky flew above him, ranging in shades of blue from eggshell where the very tips of the mountains brushed the sky, to ultramarine at the furthest point far, far higher than he would ever go. A chill breeze coasted across the land, ruffling what few low-level shrubs there were. This was not a high mountain, and the path was carved in the side of it as if it were grazed by a knife. It went up steadily, yet he could see it was beginning to level out, and he stood at the edge of a flatter section. If he so wished to reach the summit, it would be a scramble up from here, but he had no desire to reach the summit. He'd already reached his goal.

For there, on a rock long worn flat with a slight dip where he always sat, facing towards the valley, legs and arms crossed, but with his face lacking the usual frown, sat Vash Zwingli. The man who had somehow unwittingly captured Roderich's mind. He noted the way Vash's chin length blond hair waves around his face, and the elegant – in an entirely different way from himself – hand that patiently brushed it away once again – having not fully regained his breath yet, and still shocked that Vash was here, he could only whisper an astounded 'You're here…'

Vash listened. He twitched towards Roderich, face scrunched up once again, and replied curtly.

"Of course I'm here, stupid. I'm always here. On time. You're late again."

Roderich almost wanted to cry, tears of relief, because Vash _was_ there, not a figment of his imagination, nor a cruel hallucination of a lonely man, but he shoved it all down and mirth replaced it naturally. So he smiled, taking his place next to Vash – almost touching but the chasm of time and a few centimetres lay between them – and he looked across at what had occupied the other's vision previously.

A hill blanketed in white greeted his eyes: not snow, but tiny milk coloured flowers littered over the sloped plain in uneven bunches, where some were thicker than others, yet in other places the rock and thin soil were clearly visible. Roderich smiled; it seemed almost as if the flowers were giving their colour up to the sky, making the pure blue above pale as it reached the earth. Vash yawned – disrupted from his thoughts, the musician somehow, finally, asked the question that had plagued him ever since this… alliance, of sorts, had begun, this unspoken arrangement to always meet with the blooming edelweiss.

"Why do you continue to come here? Every year?"

Vash swivelled his head to peer at him with a single, thin, eyebrow raised, as if the question was stupid, or the answer obvious. When Roderich held his calm gaze with a confused look, the blond eventually broke his gaze to watch the field of tiny flowers shake with an alpine breeze, his face stretched into smirk that held none of the usual venom.

"I don't know. You tell me, idiot. Because I'm sure there are other spots where I could see these flowers. Is there a reason for this spot in particular? You decide."

Vash rose, strolling over to look over the other side of the clearing, leaving Roderich stationary, pondering over his words. The only thing he could think of was that Vash enjoyed invading his private space; this spot was actually rather secluded, with most of the mountain walkers and climbers preferring to traverse up the other side, for an easier path. The brunet remembered back to the first time, when they'd been younger than this, and more at odds, having fairly recently drifted apart. That time had been filled with arguments more than watching the fragile alpine flowers, and somehow, since then, they'd meet here to see the edelweiss bloom, each visit becoming friendlier and less word-filled, because they found words to lead to conversations and arguments, so it made them pointless.

Roderich had come to enjoy and look forward to these meetings, and he wasn't entirely sure whether it was the company or the flowers.

He looked towards Vash, watching as the blond pawed at his hair in an attempt to keep it from flying into his face. As he thought about it, this was stranger than it seemed: while the spot was close to the border, it was on the Austrian side, and Vash usually hated even contemplating going to Roderich's lands, let alone actually _coming_. He couldn't think of any sensible reason that Vash would visit here, at all.

The blond had noticed that he was being watched, and turned, meeting purple eyes with his own, but said nothing. Without his usual hint of confidence, Roderich broke the gaze, and patting the space next to him, indicated for Vash to sit beside him. There was a moment of hesitation, with no movement, and the brunet thought that Vash might refuse, yet after a while, he heard footsteps, and looked up as the other nation seated himself.

Spurred on by an unknown impulse, Roderich laid his head on Vash's shoulder, closing his eyes in the process. Vash stiffened for a fleeting second, and the brunet mentally hit himself for acting on such a hasty thought. But the other nation quickly relaxed, and leant his head slightly on Roderich's head, keeping his eyes open to observe the clouds go past.

"Did you work it out?"

The musician reasoned that there was little point lying to Vash, when he really had no idea.

"No. Are you going to tell me?"

The blond sighed, despite finding Roderich's cluelessness funny, and shook his head slightly.

"You'll work it out someday."

He, too, shut his eyes, feeling the rush of the wind against his face and the warmth he was sharing with Roderich in their proximity. He could smell the edelweiss, a clean scent, and hoped that one day, he might be able to take one and simply _tell_ Roderich.

Until then, he would enjoy these meetings.

* * *

This was for an exchange, the prompt being 'As far apart as they've become, the blooming edelweiss still manages to bring them back together, year after year.'

Also, the edelweiss' meaning in floriography, as told by one site, was 'courage'. Which kind of fits, I think?

Hope you liked it!


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